Tuesday, February 10, 2009
BATS: a trio of poems
A.M. P.P.
of course
the bats they
pee on you when they
swarm from the bridge
base in the evening – it’s the
first thing things do upon
waking – and it’s not like they
can smoke a
cigarette.
TRUCK DOOR OPTIONAL
we could
not decide which was
more amusing neath the
Santa Cruz bridge on remote
Ina Road: the frenzied bats that
swarmed from the rafters – or the
yahoos who showed up and
got drunk.
CLOWN SUIT
if you squint the
swarming bats take on
variant costumes, look like
paperclips or boomerangs or
a murder of crows – but no matter
how the bats turn chameleon – their pierced
shrieks always sound like a
mother.
-Ryn Gargulinski
of course
the bats they
pee on you when they
swarm from the bridge
base in the evening – it’s the
first thing things do upon
waking – and it’s not like they
can smoke a
cigarette.
TRUCK DOOR OPTIONAL
we could
not decide which was
more amusing neath the
Santa Cruz bridge on remote
Ina Road: the frenzied bats that
swarmed from the rafters – or the
yahoos who showed up and
got drunk.
CLOWN SUIT
if you squint the
swarming bats take on
variant costumes, look like
paperclips or boomerangs or
a murder of crows – but no matter
how the bats turn chameleon – their pierced
shrieks always sound like a
mother.
-Ryn Gargulinski
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